


At Times, Love Is...

by AceQueenKing



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Making Up, Mythology References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: 25 one-sentence scenes from Hades' and Persephone's marriage.





	At Times, Love Is...

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts were borrowed from [One Sentence Only](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/One_Sentence_Only)'s Table 25/C, but I bent the rules a bit to add in the structure: each of the headings is meant to follow "At Times, Love Is..." 
> 
> Written for the Hadestown week on Tumblr for the **Favorite Couple** prompt.

**_At times, Love is...._ **

_1\. [...a final image of the **sky** , disappearing as he swept her down to the world below]_

Her first thought of the Underworld was that she missed the skies above; there was no sky there but dirt, and for a moment after she went down with him, she could see why her mother had forbidden her from ever coming here, but then Hades had taken her hand and led her deeper into his kingdom and she knew it would be home, because he was there.

_2\. [...an **island** , carved by shaking, desperate hands]_

Hades knew that the Underworld was not what she wanted, even at the start, but he thought once that she might get used to it, if he made it suit her — he made tropical islands in the darkness, Lethe lapping at their shores, and dared to hope it would make her happy — but he caught the way her mouth frowned as she looked up at his false sun, even if his stubborn pride wouldn't let him admit to himself that she'd never stay with him for good.

_3\. [...A **tradition** among Gods, or sacred rites even more ancient than that]_

It was tradition, even among Gods, to have a wedding celebration — but Persephone couldn't say that she minded the way he made her his wife, pressing her into the dirt of her mother's garden, raining desperate kisses on her mouth, tracing molten gold into a ring around her finger.

_4\. [...a **moonlight** smile, teeth glinting in the dark]_

For a while, they were happy in moonlight; six months, give or take, but sooner or later, she'd start tapping out a melody he couldn't follow, and he'd be left watching her saunter out the door with a kiss on his cheek, telling him she would be back in the fall.

_5\. [...a **heart** , stopped and still]_

It wasn't that she wanted to leave him, it was that she had to — she had a job to do, and she couldn't do it underground; he never noticed that when she left, her heart stayed, dead and buried in the ground with him.

_6\. [...subtle gifts delivered on a nondescript **Wednesday** ]_

Every so often, a little trinket found its way upstairs to her, carried on a crow's wing; no one could figure out exactly how he'd done it, and there was foolish male pride in that: after the third broach he'd made winged its way to Persephone one summer, his rarely-seen seasonal sister paid him a visit, fire on her mouth as she told him to stay away, that he was a _distraction_ — still, Persephone wore them all coming back in the fall, and seeing her in his handiwork, he felt seized with a passion that could break Olympus wide open, on her command alone.

_7\. [...an image of an unknown and unwanted **grandfather** ]_

She never knew her grandfather, not really; he'd been in Tartarus since long before she had been born and no one up above talked about the rebellion anymore — but she knew him immediately when she saw his picture at the Museo del Prado during one of her trips up top; grandfather, silver-hair slick with sweat as he devoured the world, eyes mad; _Saturn devouring his son_ , the caption said, and she realized which son it _was_ and left, sick with shock; winter came early that year, and she held him for a month in their bed, hands curled around his many scars, trying not to notice that the possessive madness that gripped Hades often looked all too similar.

_8\. [...a jump into a **lake** , one hand held in the other]_

She could never get him to the ocean, but she took him to a lakeshore once — he'd stood there fully dressed in a black swimsuit (and it was a suit in every sense of the word despite his grumbling insistance of how naked he felt), awkward despite his bulk, but she'd pushed him into his brother's domain and saw him crack just a hint of a smile before he pulled her down with him into the sweet freshwater, holding her close as they bobbed in the water's current, exploring a new domain together.

_9\. [... **Failing** to stop yourself from going over a cliff, even knowing you should]_

He knew he shouldn't resent it when she was gone but he did, always, and over the years, the accusations thrummed hotter and hotter in his mind; in spring, the poison built up in his blood, and even knowing it was driving her away, he could not stop it from spilling from his lips.

_10\. [... **Breaking** your own heart, and trying desperately to mend the cracks]_

She didn't want to go home anymore because she could always see those months above ground burning with a jealous fire in his eyes; he could not follow and he judged her for going without him, and the guilt that burned deep in her heart was fire hotter than any fury he could produce.

_11\. [...An entire winter spent **wishing** things were different, somehow]_

They made up, after a while — as they always did, when she softened enough to drape herself over him, to promise him that he was her lord and her star, and he knew it was his fault and that he should apologize but it was easier to simply be relieved when she made the effort for him, to kiss her his wordless apologies and hope she understood.  
  
_12\. [...whispered **rumors** , following in your wake]_

Persephone hated Olympus because everyone threw themselves at her as if she was a particularly fine piece of meat; she wasn't interested in being someone's side dish, and when they tried to convince her by insisting Hades (conspicuously _never_ on the guest list) was doing the very same in hell, she laughed, refusing to be baited by the rumors — Persephone knew death had the patience to wait forever.

_13\. [... **i miss you** , whispered by one absent party to another]_

When she was gone, Hades turned to countless inventions as ways to keep busy, and tried not to think of his wife, free from the yoke of him around her shoulders as she laughed her way through the upper world and the viper's nest called Mount Olympus — but the simple tune and steady beat of machinery did nothing to drown out the sound of jealous laughter in his mind.

_14\. [...the **goal** , but it is hard to reach]_

When she came home, he started to make little changes; he had started building a furnace, then a mill, then a refinery — "I wanted to make it a little livelier for you, lover," he said, and she tried to ignore how profane it felt, to hear an above-ground whistle yell for dead workers.

_15\. [... **yesterday** , obvious in hindsight]_

He was frustrated by her complete inability to understand how he was doing this for her, all of this, _for her_ , trying to make his underworld into something that resembled the modern world up top: factories, light, heat, _life_ — and still she frowned and still Hades wanted nothing but to go back to that garden, all those years ago, and try again, and still, as crafty as he was, he had no idea how to do that.

_16\. [... **shopping** for something you cannot buy]_

Sometimes, as a distraction, she had him take her shopping upstairs; he took pride in dressing her in all the fineries that he could afford, which was all of them — but nothing had made both their hearts tremble so much as when he had tried to buy her a diamond ring to replace her golden one, and she refused, preferring the one he made her with his own fingers to anything he could buy.

 _17._ [... _ **coffee** in a summer cafe_, _sweet and bitter]_

He tried to go up for a date with her on the other side when he was strained, when the lightning in his blood needed an outlet because he was ready to burn up from missing her so much; blinking into sunlight he hated, sweating in a coat that felt too heavy for the weather, he thought about nothing but how much he _hated_ the upper world —  but _then_ she was  _there_ and she pulled him into a dark, cool cafe and he knew he never loved her more as she smiled and handed him a frothy latte, the color the same gorgeous cafe-brown as her skin — of course, it was a lovely distraction, but all too soon the underworld called him home, and he came to a cold bed with an ache inside nothing but her could fill.

_18\. [...friends, **family** , and the little lies we tell]_

She wanted kids and he wanted kids but nothing grew in the realm of the dead, and she knew if she had a sunshine child with him, she would have to stay longer in the light, and knew he would die of jealous neglect in the darkness; when he started calling their charges their children instead, she went with it, even knowing that it was a lie, and tried hard not to show her disgust — but he, who missed nothing, saw it anyway and then things got much, _much_ worse.

_19\. [...a **horse** , so desperate for the feedbag it never notices the blinders sliding over its eyes]_

At their most fragile point, Hades seduced Eurydice in a vivid revenge fantasy; wanted to make his simultaneously beloved and bereaved wife cry as he rutted the girl like his brothers had done to other women, but in the end, he couldn't go through with it —  she was little more than a mare trying to eek out oats, the dumb child, and he passed his hand over her and sent her to the factories with only his shame on his mind.

_20\. [... **champion** over all, for a moment, anyway]_

She knew Orpheus would win over Hades heart, because he was so much of what Hades had been, once —  an awkward but passionate thing, pleading his case for a love he held beyond compare; when she clung to her King's arm, she felt his heart race, and knew a taste of victory —  Orpheus did too, before his own doubts snatched it away, history repeating itself in a bitter note; mortals didn't get to try again, as they could.

_21\. [... **cat** -like grace, predatory and powerful in surprising places]_

She was like a cat, his wife, stalking his bed after the boy left; he watched her as she carefully unfolded her clothing, sitting naked and alone on their last winter's night together, but however distracting she was, he couldn't be dissuaded from his mission: "I want to start over with you," he'd blurted out, and she'd purred, stalking him like the prey he'd always been as her lips closed over his, and the words  _me too_  were whispered into his scars as she pulled off his clothing and his doubts in one wide swipe, and he said "I'm sorry," as he took her down and she gasped quietly, and their ancient rings clinked against one another in the darkness as they whispered _I love yous_ in thousands of languages, and they both knew it was different, this time.

_22\. [...a pretty **picture** ]_

They'd awoken on the vernal equinox, curled up in one another's arms for the first time in years, and Persephone took the time to admire every bit of him as he slept; relief at his drowsy smile flooded through every part of her — in those last hours, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and he murmured half-awake but wholly-felt love-songs into her breast, and she decided maybe winter could be a bit longer this year.

_23\. [... **evening** -song, melancholy but full of promise]_

When the time came for them to part — in May, and only because all-father Zeus had _loudly_ insisted — he held her close and asked if maybe she'd mind if he took her out for a dance upstairs during the summer-time and he kept this promise by showing up uninvited on Olympus a couple of months later; they danced the tango past his gawking brothers and her tutting mother and all the whispers about them, and wound up horizontally giggling in one of Hera's peacock gardens, and he couldn't think of a time he was happier in the summertime than that.

_24\. [...the sound of the heart at a loved one's arrival, akin to **bumblebee's** buzzing]_

The feeling builds in her gradually each summer, a thrumming vibration that buzzes through her soul like a hummingbird's wings, vibrates like the wail of the train as it come down the line; when he throws open the door, it's all she can do not to explode with energy into his arms.

_25\. [...an **alarm clock** , disabled]_

He's slowed down Hadestown, stripped it until nothing is left but the kingdom of dirt he led her to all those years ago, with its dripping caverns and asphodel fields; its gloomy and cold but there is still warmth between them, and she regrets nothing of it, and when he asks if there's anything here she likes, she takes his hand and just leads him deeper down, way down under the ground —  after all, it's not perfect, but it's always been home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The picture Persephone sees in the Museo Del Prado in #7 is [this one](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturn_Devouring_His_Son) by Francisco Goya (warning: this painting is really graphic and not for sensitive audiences, which is why I'm only linking it here). It's not mentioned what son it is, but I'm taking creative license in saying that it's Hades.


End file.
